


When She's Gone

by rosehathaway



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Light Angst, Nightmares, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 05:21:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7301116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosehathaway/pseuds/rosehathaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Felicity faces danger, Oliver realizes that the world without her pink lips and innappropriate comments, is a world he doesn't want to live in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When She's Gone

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Irma who made me post this (I was ready to delete it) and to my beta Tracey who made sure this reads a lot better than it did before (thank you!).

He can’t remember the last thing she said to him, before the van crashed and turned and everything went black for a split second. Then suddenly she was unconscious, not moving and he was too far to reach her. All he could see was the top of her head covered with the blonde hair he had gotten so accustomed to.

He couldn’t bring himself to ask the question. That dreadful question that could change his life forever. He couldn’t, because he associated Felicity with life, with everything colourful and vibrant and beautiful, but never with death. She was perhaps the only person he never associated with death, until now. For Oliver Queen, death and Felicity were not part of the same sentence.

“Is she breathing?” He finally managed to ask Diggle, and the shortest period of time in which Diggle checked for a pulse was the longest second of Oliver’s life. In that short moment he realized that he couldn’t imagine a world without Felicity in it; that he didn’t want to live in a world without her pink lips, inappropriate comments, colourful skirts and eyes that look at him like no one else’s ever have. She looked at him as if she saw something good, unspoiled inside of him. She looked at him like he was a hero. So now, with more men approaching, he couldn’t afford to fall apart; he couldn’t let her down.

The affirmative answer unclenched a fist he felt around squeezing his stomach and slowly he regained ability to breathe again. He would contemplate exactly how close to losing her he came this time later, but right now, he needed to make sure they all made it out of there, and in order to do that, he had to put his personal feelings aside.

After he successfully got rid of any imminent danger, he walked towards Diggle and Felicity and gently swooped her into his own arms, even though he knew Diggle could carry her just as well. After the shock, he just needed to feel her. He needed to feel her chest moving against him, her warm breath on his neck and even the pounding of her heart; or was that his heart that was pounding?

He carried her away from the burning cars and the chaos, away from death and destruction. He understood that she was a part of it, just as much as he was. It didn’t mean he was okay with it. As she usually didn’t go on field, it was easy to delude himself into thinking she was safe from all of it. But the truth was, nobody was safe from it. Least of all Felicity.

* * *

Again, he came too close. This time, it was his plan. Watching Slade hold a knife against Felicity’s throat made his insides churn with hate. The picture Slade had described, Felicity’s body lying in front of him, her blood red against her white skin, was clearer than he would have liked. It was an image that had burned into his mind and would not ever leave. Even though everything went according to plan and he knew she was safe now, even though he knew she saved them all by being braver than he ever will be, it was impossible to erase from his memory the fear in her eyes when the cold metal pressed against her warm flesh. He hated himself for using her to beat Slade. He hated being the one to put her on the front line, in a dangerous position; most of all, he hated saying those three words and then making her believe he hadn’t meant them. As much as he hated himself for it, he knew it was the only way. The way to beat Slade was not to overpower him, but to outsmart him.

As they stood on the island that brought so much pain to him, he wanted nothing more than to make her understand that he had meant every word, that she meant the world to him, that the thought of living without her had become unbearable somewhere along the way. He didn’t.

She was pure and good. He didn’t deserve her. All he did was bring her pain and danger. She deserved so much more. So he looked her in the eyes and told a lie. A lie he almost choked on.

* * *

_“Dig! Diggle! Is she breathing?” He asked while fear petrified him whole. It was unthinkable to imagine…_

_“Oliver! She’s… She’s not breathing.” Diggle responded, desperation in his voice mirroring his own. “She’s gone.”_

He woke up in cold sweat. Just like the night before that, and the night before that. The nightmares started after they put Slade away. They varied, but one thing was always the same: Felicity died. Either she never woke up after the van crash, or the blade Slade had been pressing against her throat penetrated her skin too deeply. Either way, she died. Right there, in front of him, and there was nothing he could do to save her.

Too many times he held her limp body in his arms while she took her last breath. Too many times he watched her die with his name on her lips. Too many times he woke up terrified for her life, calling out her name every single time. He got up without thinking, driven by one single need. To feel her breathing.

She didn’t wake up right away. He watched her chest rise and fall in a slow rhythm. He heard her shallow sleepy breaths; he saw her tossing. It was enough for his pulse to normalize. She was alive and safe and most importantly, she was breathing.

“Oliver?” She yawned and sat up, looking at him confused. Her hair was a mess and he was not used to seeing her without glasses, but she was the most beautiful sight to him. He gently caressed the little frown on her forehead. The one she got when she was thinking too hard. “What are you doing here?”

He could make up an excuse, lie again. But it didn’t make sense anymore. He was tired of lying to her. Tired of hiding how important she was to him. “This is going to sound creepy,” he said slowly, choosing his words precisely, “but I just needed to feel you breathe.”

She looked at him then, really looked at him. She noticed the shadows under his eyes, the shallow look he was giving her, the desperation in his voice. She gently stroked his cheek, making him look at her. “Hey, I’m here. I’m breathing.”

She knew. She understood. It was how she felt every time Oliver was on the field. It was how she felt days after he had a close encounter with death. It was the primal fear one had for the life of someone they loved.

“I’m alive. It’s okay.” She stroked his hair softly, almost like a mother would. He broke down then, in her arms, sobbing her name like it was a prayer leaving his mouth. She held him while he cried, and later she cried with him. Reassuring him between her own sobs. Minutes passed, hours maybe, before they calmed down, falling asleep entwined. There was nothing romantic in how they fell asleep, as if they wanted to feel each other’s heartbeats, as if that was the only way they could ever fall asleep again.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys liked this. Please let me know!


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